They call it a colmado. The meaning isn’t directly translated into English, but in the Dominican Republic, it serves as a place for both groceries and social gatherings, stemming from the verb for “to fulfill.”
The sound of music and the need for cold beer brought my friends and me to a bodega-style corner store blasting jukebox tunes. We were the only gringos in an otherwise local establishment selling everything from cigarettes to toilet paper to bags of chips.
They also had a cooler stocked with Presidente, the favorite local beer. We sidled up and split a 40-ounce bottle added to plastic cups shared between the five of us. A Mark Anthony ballad played in the background and everyone knew the words but us.
An old timer approached us and we chatted about sports and politics. He alluded to the fact that, as Americans, we wouldn’t have been able to visit 20 years ago because of the former communist regime. He pantomimed a finger across the throat.
A couple showed off their dance moves as we watched, enraptured. Like a proud grandfather, he showed us his family photos on his flip phone. It reminded me of drinking beer on the streets of Hanoi, sitting on tiny stools surrounded by local men, and also the corner store I lived across from in Charleston.
After two bottles, we went in search for a place to dance, but not before he cautioned us to be careful and keep our phones and valuables out of sight. And with an adios, we said farewell to our new friend and followed the sounds of the pedestrian street, still lively and full of people late into the night.
I visited Santo Domingo with the Dominican Republic Ministry of Tourism, but my experience at the colmado, in addition to my iPhone photos and Snapchat video, are my own.
Fun! It’s rare to be the only foreigners anywhere any more. Hope the dancing was a blast.